


#metoo

by fluffy_miracle



Series: #metoo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Episode: s13e13 Devil's Bargain, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gabriel's Back, Gabriel-Centric, Gabriel/Sam Winchester-centric, Hellatus, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pre-Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Psychological Torture, Recovery, Rescue, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Spoilers, Torture, gabriel is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_miracle/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: It's going to be a rough road to recover from what happened in Hell, but at least Gabriel doesn't have to do it alone.





	#metoo

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OFF
> 
> the title is not using that hashtag lightly as it is a hashtag I can relate to personally. however, this fic touches on sexual abuse, harassment, and straight up rape (all implied and non graphic), and finding that solidarity and empowerment in someone else who understands.

He knew the end was coming when that prick of hell showed him off to that measly human. Asmodeus must think he was almost ready after all those hundreds of years of training. He had forgotten about how time moved in hell until he got there, hidden away in Asmodeus’s little patch of pain paradise. He had fought back. He had irritated the demonic prince of hell until all his usefulness was used up and his mouth was sewn up. It was, of course, an homage to his double life as trickster. Asmodeus didn’t know the half of it and Gabriel refused to tell him. It had been a relief by the time the demon actually had sewn his mouth shut— especially after the other ways he found to shut Gabriel up. His stomach flopped and he bowed his head back down again. He didn’t want to throw up.

When they came for him for the second time in days, Gabriel thought it was the end. It wasn’t. It was punishment for the traitorous human revealing that he was alive to the worst people alive. He shuddered as Asmodick went on and on about the meddling Winchesters— that was a name he didn’t want to hear. Asmodeus worked him over for days, cutting him open, burning him open, drilling into him over and over again about his only purpose in life. He existed to fulfill Asmodeus’s desires. He was locked back up and the darkness welcomed him like an old friend. He thought he was used to be lonely back when he was on his own, but the loneliness he felt in hell was unbearable. He shut his eyes as a tear trickled down his grimy cheek, over the sad excuse he had for a mouth now.

Days passed and then the door opened again. It was quiet this time, like whoever was opening it didn’t want him to know they were coming in. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to know. He truly wanted everything to just be over.

He kept his eyes shut as he was carried away from his cell, his chains hanging heavy behind him, dragging on the floor. He didn’t want to see where he was being forced to go next. He was afraid they were taking him back to the torture chambers where they had done such terrible things to him. His shirt hid the gaping wounds still raw against the flimsy fabric. His lips ached as the threading pulled them tight. There was screaming all around, so much screaming, so he covered his ears the best he could with his head pressed against a warm chest. A human was carrying him, maybe a new one to replace the slimy one that followed his Master around. A rebellious flame flickered within his grace, no one was his master, least of all a Prince of Hell; a flame that squashed down by the fear of more torture. To be forced to be so dependent on one creature’s whims after being so independent for all those millions of years had been agony.

“We’ve got you, Gabriel. We’re getting you out.” 

He was jostled roughly and he cried out, sharp in his mind but muffled by the cruel stitches. They tore further into his skin, fresh blood welling up and smearing over his lips. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. We’re almost out. They’re never going to touch you again.” Unlikely. Years of being something to toy with had left him distrustful and immune to hope. No one was coming for a degenerate, disobedient son. No one was coming for a traitor to friends and family alike. He didn’t have friends. He didn’t have a family. When the darkness came for him with flames, knives, and thick needles, he had accepted he was never going to be free again.

The air changed, suddenly too open and fresh to be the choking dungeons he was held in. Something unnamed, no, something forgotten, shoved away in an attempt to survive welled up in him and his body shook unexpectedly. Strangled sobs echoed inside of his mouth, grounding into the shoulder he now found himself cradled into. The freshness was not so open now, his body was resting on something firm, something alive. He was being held and if that wasn’t so troubling and confusing, it almost would have felt nice…

He was carried again, his nostrils flaring in an effort to take in as much of the fresh air as he could before he was locked away again. He was being carried inside, peeking over the arm holding him up. It looked like a dungeon. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see where they were taking him anymore. He wanted to enjoy what was this little reprieve from all the torment. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He just wanted it to be over. 

There was a lull, something soft dipping under what little weight his skinny frame bore. Something warm and wet touched his face and he froze, his whole body stiffening with fear. “I’m sorry.” There was that voice, soft and so repentant, he held on to the voice inside his mind, pulling it apart and analyzing it. He kind of liked it— it wasn’t grating or mocking. It was gentle on his ears, gentle on his mind, gentle on his grace. His grace fluttered inside, curling up, grateful to be free of that terrible warded cell. There were wards here, not not for him. This place was big yet cozy as he worked up the courage to open his eyes again. He was in a room four times larger than his cell at least. He was lying on a bed.

He felt the wetness by his eyes before he was aware of what the tears. He had missed beds. It was a silly thing to miss, but he had. It was a simple comfort that he longed for. “It’s okay.” His eyes widened as he looked over at the human looming in the side of his vision. This human was huge, though he was grateful he wasn’t a demon or an angel. There was an angel somewhere around, he could feel his grace around, but he wasn’t near. Good. He had his share of angels and demons a long time ago. They had shown him all what good grace and mercy were-- none at all. It made sense. He had chosen the humans a long time ago, and now he had paid for the choice several times over. Now the humans were going to make him pay.

“Is he okay?”

“I doubt it.”

“Guys…” the voice that had been talking to him all this time shushed the others. “It’s okay, Gabriel. You’re safe now. I’m going to cut the thread now.” There was such sorrow and guilt in that voice, Gabriel didn‘t understand why. He didn’t want to understand why, not with the panic welling up in him. He shook his head violently as a hand brushed against his cheek, clenching his eyes shut as he rebelled against this new torture. He wasn’t going to be used by these humans! He needed them to stay kind and gentle. He needed this comfort they had been so willingly giving him up to now. Maybe he was wrong, maybe they were demons, sent by Asmodeus to play with him some more. “Okay.” The one talking to him retreated. “We won’t take the threads out until you’re ready.” Well, Gabriel was never going to be ready. He still couldn’t get rid of the taste of the last demon in his mouth. He shuddered, jumping when something warm and soft was drawn around him. “How about a shower in a little bit? When you feel more comfortable…”

Gabriel opened his eyes slowly after a few moments. The human, he was pretty sure he was still a human, smiled at him. “Hey, remember me?” Gabriel blinked, taking a moment to look a little more closely. He did kind of recognize him: he definitely was a human. Gabriel twitched, sending a tendril of grace to double check. He cocked his head and the human filled in silence like he had been doing. “I’m Sam.” Gabriel nodded. The name was not familiar, but the soul was, even with the scarring. It was a Winchester, Sam, apparently. Sam lit up at the idea that Gabriel remembered him. Gabriel didn’t remember him. He just knew that soul from somewhere. He had lived a long life, he had seen a lot of souls. He didn’t let on though. Keepers were best kept happy. “It’s good— well, I’m glad— it’s good to see you again.” Gabriel closed his eyes again. “Okay, let’s get you clean and then you can nap.”

He didn’t like the shower. Having to strip, even though Sam seemed to not be looking at him in any manner that would make him feel uncomfortable, made him uneasy and nervous. The water was warm and gentle. It didn’t linger unnecessarily. His new keeper let him rinse off before starting on his hair. His hair was long in the front, but it was cut short in the back. It had clung to his skin with oil, sweat, and blood. He watched the pinkish brown water swirl down as the human used the removable shower to scour his scalp. The hair was fine. It was when the human began to wash him that Gabriel started to fidget. It was too much. When Sam washed down his body, washcloth dipping just below his waist, Gabriel stiffened, shoving the human’s hand away. His eyes were filled with fear even under the crumbling mask of defiance.

It was odd. Even in his fragile state, Gabriel was still aware of others. He could still feel what they were feeling if he decided that was what he wanted. The human, Sam, dropped the washcloth and stepped back instantly. His face dropped, and Gabriel realized that Sam knew. Sam had guessed what had happened; the torment that wasn't visible on Gabriel's skin yet left such a mark on his spirit. It stung. Gabriel had been okay with facing off with Lucifer. Fighting Lucifer meant dying. Dying meant nobody had to know what happened in the dungeons and torture chambers of hell. And now, some human had the gall to look him in the eyes with blatant pity. Gabriel pressed his fingers together, as if he was about to snap this Sam from existence when the human spoke up, seeking Gabriel’s eyes with his own. “Me too.” Gabriel faltered, blinking back the tears that welled up before he dropped his hand. Sam turned off the shower and offered him a large, fluffy blanket that Gabriel quickly wrapped around his body. He looked at Sam with almost pleading eyes and Sam sighed. "It happened in hell too." It was his turn to falter. "Lucifer--." 

Gabriel reached over, brushing his fingers ever so softly against Sam's upper arm. The human didn't need to tell him. Gabriel could imagine-- not that he wanted to. It was comforting though. This human wasn't going to hurt him. This human knew what it was like to have been broken. Gabriel scrunched his eyes back shut at the overwhelming feeling of hope clenching around his core. Sam knew what it was like to be broken by an archangel, yet here he was, taking care of Gabriel like he hadn't even felt completely degraded and humiliated inside. Maybe, just maybe, Gabriel had a chance. Maybe it didn't have to be over yet.

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of just happened. I'm leaving it as a one-shot right now, but if you would want more of this particular verse, let me know, and I can add on once I'm finished the other fic about Gabriel being alive. I'm still having a lot of feelings over my baby's return-- still kind of in shock too. But I have so many questions now! Mostly I just need him and Sam and all of wayward daughters and team free will to be okay, happy, and loved.


End file.
